


If not for me, then for the coffee

by DracoPendragon



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1872597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoPendragon/pseuds/DracoPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto's death hit Jack hard. He's still not sure how to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If not for me, then for the coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I like writing angsty janto things.

Jack was sat at his desk in the Hub, silence smothering the air around him. He was grieving. Again. He was alone. Again. Had lost yet another loved one. _Oh the curse of being immortal,_ he thought bitterly.

Ianto Jones. The name fell from Jack’s lips over and over, a silent prayer, a yearning call for his lover. His heart ached dully each passing day, the loss of his coffee boy settling into that seemingly endless chasm in his stomach of emptiness.

But, the thing was, Ianto hadn’t just been the coffee boy. He’d been Jack’s lover, Jack’s commitment (the little that he had, anyway), and he was gone.

He came a coffee boy, a butler of sorts, and left – died – a soldier. This wasn't supposed to happen. Jack would give anything to have him back, even though he knew it was impossible.

Jack did blame himself for Ianto’s death, and he would forever more. Ianto _had_ known what he was entering into and it was his job – but Jack had been the one to recruit him after they had caught that pterodactyl. It was all his fault.

Jack had tried to get up and make coffee – unsuccessfully. The smell of the granules reminded him too much of Ianto, as did the sound of the coffee machine. _Ianto_. Jack missed him, was constantly thinking about him and his neat hair, his bright smile that always sent a slight shiver down Jack’s spine, his smart suits, the meticulous care and attention he put into the coffee. Missed the nights they spent together, holding onto each other, quiet reassurance passing between them.

The coffee tasted bitter in his mouth, and Jack threw the cup into the bin.

_My coffee boy who died a soldier_. You’d think Jack was used to it by now. Losing loved ones. After an eternity of life, you lose a lot of people.

But losing Ianto had hit him like little else ever had before.

_Come back,_ Jack prayed.

‘If not for me, then for the coffee.’  He smiled sadly before pulling his coat on and exiting the Hub into the cold Cardiff night.


End file.
